Camp Anthrax
by Meg Kenobi
Summary: Obi Wan goes to band camp... Need I say more?


Disclaimer: Now, I am George Lucas and I own these characters so I'm making  
a profit off them... No, I'm not... Don't sue me unless you're after  
17 notebooks, a piccolo and a free Happy Meal coupon as such is all I own.  
  
Band Camp  
Day 1  
  
Qui-Gon worked furiously at his embroidery, jabbing at the cloth  
with the needle. Healer W'thc'bn'bn had insisted it would help Jinn   
lower his stress, but so far the Jedi's accomplishment of the day had been  
suturing his fingers together. In a final burst of anger, Qui-Gon hurled   
the embroidery hoop at the door.  
Obi-Wan had just opened the door to he and his master's quarters when   
an embroidery hoop went whizing by his ear.  
"Oh dear," thought Obi-Wan, ducking, "The embroidery is NEVER a good   
sign, even worse then the knitting."  
"What's wrong, Master?" he queried, fearing the reply.  
"The Council thinks you're anti-social, Obi Wan, they want you to   
join the marching band."  
"WHAT?"  
"You still play the trumpune, right?"  
"The trumpet, Master..."  
"So what's the problem?"  
Obi-Wan wasn't sure why he didn't like the idea, but thought it may  
have something to do with a certain R rated holo-vid, "Coruscani Pie", he and   
Bant had seen without anyone's knowledge. Ever since then, he had prayed a   
mission never brought him face to face with a marching band. Obi-Wan   
reassured himself, afterall, many bands didn't have an away band camp-  
"Here's your packing list, you leave for band camp tomorrow, Camp   
Anthrax... Sounds Pleasent, hmmm?"  
"But MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTER" Obi Wan began to whine.  
"OBI WAN!"  
Obi Wan sighed, defeated, and trudged to his room. "Funny," he   
thought, looking over the list, "I wonder why the director put shaving cream  
on the list twice?"  
  
  
The next morning, Obi-Wan found him self climbing onto the most   
wretched hive of scum and villanry there ever was- a band bus.  
All over the bus peope were laughing rancorously and falling into   
the isles. Everyone seemed to be wearing strange shirts, all reading   
something to the effect of "Thunder in the Distance", "Loud is Good",   
"Trombones do it in Nine Positions" or "In it for the Sax". Some   
people were sitting by themselves, while others were three, four even five to a   
seat. Obi Wan felt very out of place...  
"Jay Dawson!"  
"Rooolllll ouuut the barrel..."  
"Froggy!"  
"Citizens_against_the ooga ooga ooga!"  
"And then I said, 'Dani, you can't touch my hoo-hoo'."  
"Hand Check!!!"  
Obi Wan was terrified by the strange snipets of conversation he was  
catching from the odd assembly gathered on the bus. He wondered if they  
always spoke of such strange things, or if it was only such taken out of   
context. He also wondered what a hoo hoo was...He searched for an empty seat,   
and finaly found a bench with only one sane-looking human male.   
Obi sighed with relief, "Hey, can I sit here?"  
"NO YOU CAN NOT!" The boy replied in an Adam Sandler-esque voice.  
"This Perry's seat."  
"Oh, okay," replied Obi Wan, figuring the seat was saved for a friend.  
Much to his suprise, however, 'Perry' was produced from the young man's   
duffel. 'Perry' turned out to be a taxidermied squirrel whose fur was   
flaking off in places. The squirrel was adorned with a Canadian Flag and  
oversized sunglasses. The boy thrust the hideous thing in Obi-Wan's face,  
"Perry, New Kid, New Kid, Perry. Kiss Perry, New Kid!!!"  
Obi-Wan pressed on towards the back of the bus, disturbed. When he  
had been ready to get off the bus, and beg the Council for mercy, he heard  
a voice next to him.  
"Hey, new kid, you can pop a squat here," Obi-Wan looked over to see   
a slim girl with tawny hair and grey eyes clearing off the seat next to her.  
Obi-Wan smiled greatfully and sat down. "I'm Maria Crv'Lac, Piccolo."   
"Obi-Wan Kenobi, trumpet," he offered.  
The young woman winced visibly. "Trumpet, eh? I'm terribly sorry..."  
Obi-Wan was puzzled. "Why are you sorry?  
Maria laughed dryly, "You haven't met your squad leader yet, have   
you? Oh well, should be a fun first week for you. We've got a new director   
this year and he doesn't know much about us so the seniors are trying to   
bring back the old initiations."  
Obi-Wan thought how lucky he was to be a sohomore.  
"Which includes extending initiation to all first year bandos, not   
just Freshmen."  
Obi-Wan moaned inwardly. Why was the Council doing this to him?   
With a final furious scream of the driver and the gears, the bus   
reached a stop. The assembly paraded off the bus.  
"OKAY," yelled a gaunt, bearded senior in a shirt with a large   
trumpet, "FIRST YEARS AND FRESHMEN FORM A LINE HERE!"  
"Good luck," snickered Maria, as Obi-Wan was hearded off.  
Obi-Wan resigned to the flow of the crowd as they were lined up   
single file againts a cabin.   
"Newbies- ATTEN--TION!" yelled a senior. As the motely crew   
snapped to a painfully inprecise attention possition, they were attacked   
with water guns and shaving cream. Obi-Wan stood with his head bowed,   
soaking wet, wondering if this was what Sith torture was like.   
"At least I know what the shaving cream was for..."  
  
THANK YOU FOR READING CHAPTER 1 !!! PLEASE REVIEW!!! 


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